


The Light and the Lion

by elusetta



Category: Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 09:37:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17937329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elusetta/pseuds/elusetta
Summary: She blames it on fatigue, on her mind not working as it should, but this was a long time coming.





	The Light and the Lion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SolidHawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolidHawk/gifts).



> Birthday present for my friend. :)

Claire had always considered herself strong.

Not everyone could navigate a night born out of the darkest depths of hell, battle monsters that the human mind could barely conceive of, and almost die so many times that being alive seemed impossible. Not everyone could do that alone.

Not  _ entirely  _ alone.

Claire had always considered herself strong, but the relief that had washed over her upon seeing Leon, the only other capable survivor of that night, was enough to tell her that some things, she couldn’t do alone.

Besides, when you found someone- someone who was the other half of a story, someone who seemed to click right into your side, someone who had a shared experience that no one else knew- you didn’t let that person go.

Especially not when Sherry had imprinted on him like a baby duck. 

Especially not when  _ Claire  _ had grown so attached to him that he was now the first thing she looked for, the first thing she took into account, when entering a room. She saw a reciprocation in him, too; a tension in his shoulders when she wasn’t in his line of sight, a soft, calm relaxation when she was, a certain kind of tenderness in the eyes.

Of course, all of that was hardly just because of shared experience. It was more a shared feeling, now.

Most people didn’t move in with the person they had shared a trauma with. Most people didn’t jointly adopt the child they’d run into on the way. Most people, when presented with a situation like this one, didn’t casually refer to each other in spousal terms, just because it was easier to explain.

So the only option was that it was born from a feeling.

Still, the reality of the situation was that, if there  _ was  _ a feeling, then neither of them had acted on it yet. Both knew. At least, Claire knew. Leon could be a little bit oblivious at times. 

So she tried to make it obvious.

Sometimes, she made it so obvious- to herself, that is- that she forgot there was a deception to the way she acted; a lack of mutuality.

For a top-of-her-class student with a wit faster than lightning, Claire was pretty stupid.

In her defense, it was late. Her mind was hazy. The soft midnight drew a veil of drowsiness over the small apartment she, Leon, and Sherry shared, as dark blue as the night outside.

The sleepy air permeated everything. By the time Claire finished reading Sherry her nightly chapter of Harry Potter, the girl was already fast asleep, a sharp contrast to her normally rapt attention and pleas for  _ just one more chapter.  _ Claire could feel sleep drawing closer to her, too, and it was only on instinct that she went to the living room instead of straight to bed. 

Leon had a tendency to doze, as he was when Claire entered the room. She smiled softly at his form, slumped into the arm of the couch, and picked up one of their spare blankets, trying to reach him and place it over him without waking him up. But one effect of the night that had brought them together was light sleeping, in both of them. Claire woke up practically every night reaching for the handgun under her pillow. Leon was hardly any different.

So he stirred, and woke with a start, as she approached him, hand flying to a holster that wasn’t there.

“Hey,” she said softly, “Just me.”

He let out a breath. “Yeah. Sorry, Claire.” He looked around the room, a flash of confusion coming over his eyes as gauzy exhaustion fell away from them. “What time is it?”

“Late,” she replied. This void seemed, in a way, to be timeless. It was rare that Sherry was asleep when they weren’t, and rarer that both of them were awake at the same time. Adjusting took energy that neither of them had enough of.

“We should sleep,” Leon said absently. “I’ll take the couch?”

They alternated every day, until they could afford another bed. (Or until they had the courage to share the one they had, she had to stop herself from thinking.) Claire shook her head. “You seem more tired than I am. I’ll take it tonight.”

He stretched and got up, too tired even to make his usual chivalrous objections. “Sure. Thanks.”

Claire settled on the couch. The fatigue of the day overtook her easily, and only half-thinking, she mumbled a soft goodnight to Leon.

Then, like her body was moving on its own, she sleepily kissed him, like it was part of an everyday routine that had been going on for years. Like they were what they pretended to be. What they appeared to be.

The rush of adrenaline woke her up pretty well. And, honestly, the damage was done. There was no reason to back down now. 

It was with relief and an irrational amount of surprise that she noted he’d leaned into it, gently supporting her with a hand on the nape of her neck. In the timeless night, too late and too early, the moment went on for an eternity.

She pulled back, finally, bright red, but Leon’s face was contented, like the final piece of this strange life they’d been sharing had at last clicked into place. “You know,” he said quietly, “we could share.”

When she hesitated a moment too long, his face flushed. “The- the bed, I mean.”

Claire smiled wide, the edges only slightly dimmed by the late hour. “That sounds nice.”

Claire had always considered herself strong, and she was. She could be strong by herself.

But she was stronger when Leon had her back.


End file.
